“My only question was whether he was not a little too philanthropic,” said Bolter, significantly. “But since I have come to find out, I guess he has used his philanthropy pretty discreetly. He’s a very shrewd fellow.” His smile and manner grated on the Major somewhat.
“Perhaps he is too shrewd?” he suggested, dryly.
“Oh, no, not for me. I have made it a rule in life to treat every man as a rascal——”
“Oh!” A shadow crossed the Major’s brow, which Bolter was quick to catch.
“Until I found out differently.”
“I should think the other would have been rather inconvenient.” Major Welch changed the subject. “But Captain Middleton had some sort of trouble with this man, and has always had a dislike for him. And I think I shall go South and look into matters there.”
“Oh, well, that’s nothing,” broke in Bolter, hotly. “What does Middleton know about business? That’s his trouble. These military officers don’t understand the word. They are always stickling for their d—d dignity, and think if a man ain’t willing to wipe up the floor for ’em he’s bound to be a rascal.”
It was as much the sudden insolence in the capitalist’s tone, as his words that offended Major Welch. He rose to his feet.
“I am not aware, that being officers, and having risked their lives to save their country, necessarily makes men either more narrow or greater fools than those who stayed at home,” he said, coldly.